


As Brothers We Will Stand

by theweightofmywords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family Feels, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Other, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 17:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4714337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweightofmywords/pseuds/theweightofmywords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George and Percy talk about Fred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Brothers We Will Stand

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but this work. Characters owned by J.K. Rowling. Title taken from Mumford and Sons song, "Timshel."

It was 3 AM when George awoke to loud knocking. Eyes half-open, he shuffled to his flat’s door.

“George! It’s Percy. Please open up!” a muffled voice said loudly from the other side of the door. George slowly un-did the locking charms and was face-to-face with his older brother.

Percy appeared disheveled, his robe pulled over his pajamas. His smudged glasses sat perched on his normally haughty nose. Tonight, his face was held tense, creased lines running across his forehead and brow.

“What are you doing here?” George asked, his voice hoarse from sleeping. Percy was sitting on the sofa, and his leg shook nervously as he remained silent. George sighed.

“Perce– what’s going on?”

Percy looked up and shook his head. He opened his mouth as if to speak before closing it again. “I’m sorry I woke you up. This was a mistake,” he stated as he stood up suddenly. George shook his head. “C’mon… I’m awake, yeah? Might as well talk,” he replied. He didn’t have the energy to make a dig at his brother as he would have a year or two ago. Even in his sleepy state, he noticed Percy’s distress. 

Things were different now.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Percy admitted sheepishly. “So you thought you’d come and wake me up too?” George joked lightly, as he sat down next to him. 

“No. It’s not that. I guess I just feel… I don’t know. It’s like my mind won’t stop.” Percy was wiping his glasses nervously with his robe, his voice barely above a whisper. 

George shrugged. Some nights, he laid in bed, a captive to the memories that replayed in his mind. Other nights, he smoked until his body seemed to melt into the mattress, the scenes made less scary by the haze. “I know what you mean,” he replied lowly.

“Do you think… Was it… Could I have…” Percy started. He fidgeted with his hands again. “Do you think it was my fault?” 

George turned his head towards him sharply.

“No,” he stated his verdict firmly. 

Percy nodded in silence as he leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. He placed his head in his hands as his shoulders began to shake. George slid his arms around him the way his mother had in the Great Hall, when he felt the ground beneath him fall apart. It had been nearly six months since that night– six months of George feeling the arms of his family hold him together. Six months, and George had never noticed Percy. He blinked back tears as his brother cried. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay,” he mumbled, as much for his brother as for himself. Percy cleared his throat and sat up, his face red. 

“We’re going to be okay,” Percy said, adjusting his glasses and patting his hair. George felt himself smile at his brother’s actions; his brother, different from him in almost every way. Almost. 

“Yeah. We’ll be okay,” George answered, mussing Percy’s hair.


End file.
